


Rise From Ashes

by RainbowMage



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Diary/Journal, Dungeons & Dragons Campaign, Dungeons & Dragons References, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fantasy, Homebrew Content, No Dungeons & Dragons Knowledge Required, Romance, Steampunk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:34:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 14,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25552891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainbowMage/pseuds/RainbowMage
Summary: I met him.  Lily, oh Lily, of all the people you could have chosen to bother it had to be him.  At first, I didn't recognize him.  Just a dark-haired man with five o' clock shadow, smoking a cigar in the corner of the guildhall.  But then my eyes met his, and to my horror I recognized who he was.  Pale grey skin, shotgun strapped to his back, eyes consisting of nothing but blackness and glowing red pupils: the Infernal.  The man who walked out of Hell.
Kudos: 1





	1. Ariel's Journal 1

My name is Ariel. The black leopard beside me is my loyal companion, Lily. If you are reading these words then chances are I am dead, likely slain by your hand, as I will never willingly show these words to anyone. Why, then, do I write? Perhaps it is so that I am not forgotten by the hand that slayed me. Perhaps it is to cope. Yes…that’s probably it. How can I go on living if I am always haunted by my scars? Maybe if it escapes through my words I can distance myself. Convince myself I am more than just a timid, nervous woman. I suppose that if I am to confront my past I should start where it began.

I was born in a town called Ashenvale, a wretched, isolated, pit of a place near the kingdom of Decauxella. Bladelings like me have never been a common sight anywhere, let alone a place occupied almost entirely by humans. My childhood was never a happy one. Hardly any joy, hardly any laughter, and never knowing where my next meal would come from. Even when I was a young child, my father had a gambling problem. Any money he made from his many odd jobs went only to gambling, leaving my mother, my sister, and me needing to resort to begging. Somehow though, we managed to make enough through these means to not die of starvation. 

I never got along with my sister. We saw each other as rivals competing for food. As much as I resented it, it was all I could do to stay alive. My mother though…my mother was selfless. Everything she did, she did for us. She did all she could to feed our family. Stealing, bribery, selling herself…eventually, however, the cost was her life. She had given her…services…to a man who refused to pay her. When she insisted he pay, he brutally beat her to death. I was only eight years old when it happened. 

Things only got worse after my mother died. My father’s gambling problem only grew worse and worse. He borrowed money from a local gang that he knew he could not pay back. And my sister and I suffered for it. 

I remember that day vividly. The day that they came for us. I was fourteen. Armed thugs came to the door of our humble home and demanded that we open up. When father refused they broke down our door. They had come on behalf of a man called Lord Perring, whose name I recognized as one of the heads of the gang father owed money to. The thugs said that they were there to collect the money. Father feigned ignorance only to be punched in the stomach. When he said he did not have it, the thugs gave him three choices. He could pay up, die, or hand over his daughters. He chose the latter. They went for my sister first. 

She struggled with every ounce of energy she could muster, even doing so much as slashing one of them across the face with the spikes protruding from her knuckles. Without hesitation, they shot her. With a fresh bullet wound in her chest, they tossed her aside as though she were a rag doll. They asked me if I would like to die as well. I went willingly. They slapped manacles on my wrists and led me out of my home. I took one last look at father and saw his face. Stony, stunned, as though he could not believe what had just happened. He only watched as they led me away. 

I don’t remember the trip to Lord Perring’s manor. All I remember is thinking about how this was where my life was going. I was to be a gangster’s whore for the rest of my life and there was nothing I could do about it. 

The next thing I remember, I was being led into a study, and a man in a well-tailored suit waved off the thugs and shut the door. We were alone. Feeling lucid for the first time in over an hour, I stared at the face I will never forget. Early forties by the look of him. Clean shaven, not a blemish on his skin, brown hair that had only just begun to grey. A smile. Not a cruel one as I had expected, but a kind one. Inviting. Friendly. 

He asked me my name. I did not answer. He asked me again and patiently waited for my reply. After what felt like hours I told him my name was Ariel. He removed my manacles and offered me a seat. I could have gutted him right then and there with my, bare, spiked hands. In hindsight I should have, even if the thugs came in and killed me. But I didn’t. He looked…kindly. Like he wouldn’t even hurt a fly. I was naïve. I took the seat he offered. 

Perring asked me if I was afraid. I told him I was. He said that there was nothing to be afraid of. As long as I behaved, this arrangement would be painless. He told me that I was to serve as a maid in his house. If I did my job well, I could rise in the ranks and become a server at his table. He offered me no pay. I was to be a slave. Not having any other choice, I agreed. 

The next four years passed with little event. I worked hard as a maid, my primary duty being to mop the floors of the manor, making them shine as though they were new. I was given my duty, I worked, I was ignored by the other slaves. Simple. 

That changed however, once Lord Perring seemed to recognize my existence. It started when he complimented my work when he passed me in the halls. I graciously thanked him for the praise and went about my business. Shortly after, he began to ask me how I was doing. Then he made small talk with me. It wasn’t long after that he promoted me from being a maid to being a server at his table. He said he wished to see more of me.

I should have seen the warning signs when I met the rest of his serving staff. All women, all of races who would be exotic in that part of the world. A dragoric, a tiefling, a pair of elves, an orc, and me. They told me that the uniform was just for show; it was little more than a loincloth and a strip of cloth that barely covered my breasts, the spikes on my body visible for all the world to see. 

For the longest time, it wasn’t so bad. I served Lord Perring and his guests, while his guests ogled at me as though I were a piece of meat. Lord Perring assured me that they meant nothing by the stares. At some point, they started to grope my breasts and lay hands on my inner thighs. Once again, he told me it was nothing to worry about. Not very reassured, he talked to me for some time, telling me how good of a job I was doing. 

Over time these conversations became more frequent. He asked me about my life. My childhood, my troubles, any subject, really. It became a joy in my life to have someone to talk to finally. Oh, how foolish I was. Months went by, our conversations continuing. I had come to think of him as a friend and not as my master. Then…it all changed in an instant. 

One night, he called me to his office. A strange time to be calling upon me, but as a slave I could not question it. I asked him how I could serve him, but he simply smiled. The next thing I knew, a strong arm was wrapped around my neck, cutting off my breath. I struggled and raked my spikes against whomever was strangling me. That was the last thing I remember before the world went black. 

I don’t know what happened during the time I was unconscious. Frankly, I hope I never find out. I woke up in a dimly lit room, naked and chained to a table. I looked around at what little I could see. Various instruments lined the walls. Knives, chains, blunt objects, all coated in dried blood. And there, standing at a workbench, cleaning a small blade was the unmistakable form of Lord Perring. He hummed a cheery tune as he worked. I struggled, trying to wriggle my wrists free to no avail. I cried out for help but received no reply. Tears stung my eyes. Finally, he turned to me, his usual friendly smile replaced by one of pure cruelty. I will never forget that smile. It haunts my nightmares even to this day.

He told me not to struggle. If I did, it would only hurt worse. In terror, I stared at his hand as it moved closer and closer to my chest. I cried out in agony as the scalpel bit into my flesh. Dear gods the pain. I can almost feel it as I write. I can almost still hear the horrid crunch sound it made as one of my spikes was dug out of my chest with a surgeon’s precision. Blood gushed from the wound where my spike had once been. Perring went back to his workbench and retrieved a needle and thread. He meticulously stitched the wound shut. Gasping from pain, I managed to choke out the word, ‘why’. His response? “I have always wanted a weapon made from real bladeling spikes.” Mercifully, I passed out.

Days went by and the wound had begun to heal. I continued to serve at his table as though nothing had happened. Nobody questioned the gash in my chest. It was as though they were used to seeing slaves wounded such. Perhaps they were. I frequently suppressed the urge to vomit at their indifference. I never spoke a word to Perring again.

As a few weeks passed, the wound healed and scarred over. Once it had healed completely, he called me to his office again and the process was repeated. I was chained to a table, one of my spikes was removed, and the wound was stitched to heal. And then it happened again. And again. And again. After over a year had passed, all the spikes on my torso were gone, scars littering the surface of my skin. Eventually, Perring told me why he never removed the spikes from my face and limbs. It was so that the world could see how ugly I was as a bladeling, and so that I could never hold another without fear of hurting them. 

I hate him. I should have killed him when given the chance. I could have slowly flayed him alive. Agonizingly slowly torn out his throat. But I didn’t. I still won’t. If I lose myself to vengeance I become no better than him. I pray to the gods that Perring will spend eternity burning in Hell. But I will not take the path of revenge. No…instead I planned my escape. 

It took months to figure out a plan that would not immediately get me killed. Eventually, I decided that I did not care if I died. Death was a welcome fate for a wretch like me. If I died though, I would die escaping. I refused to die a slave. Eventually executing my plan, I tied together threadbare sheets and made a crude rope. I tied it to the windowsill and cast it out the window. Not caring that it did not reach the ground, I climbed down to the end of it and let go. Gods know how I survived the fall without much injury, but I would not question the will of the gods. All I knew was that after years of slavery, I was free. Into the woods I ran, not stopping for a moment until I reached the next town. 

Now escaped, I continued to flee for months in case they were searching for me. I stuck to the woods and stayed off the road, hiding my trail where I could. It was in those months that I met Lily. One day, I heard a roar which sounded like a large wounded animal. Following the sound, I discovered a black leopard with her paw stuck in a bear trap. I carefully approached and freed the poor beast from the trap. I don’t know how, but freeing her caused a magic bond to form between us. She followed me wherever I went and remained my companion. Somehow even, the bond made it so she could understand speech. I can’t say I understand. But I am glad to have her with me.

Over the course of the next year, I went from place to place, trying my hardest to make some sort of home for myself. Everywhere I went, I was met with hatred and distrust. Ever since I was a child, I have known that bladelings are a strange sight to behold, but it wasn’t until my travels that I truly understood how hated we were. It still saddens me to see such bigotry happening. 

Eventually, Lily and I found ourselves in the city of Drit. It was there that I discovered the Shadow Hunters’ Guild. A guild of monster hunters who hunt the evil creatures that lurk in the night. It was there that I found some degree of acceptance for what I was. The guild was a kind of haven for outcasts and those with strange powers. People like me. I found where I belong. 

I am a Hunter now, a slayer of cryptids. I love my job. I love feeling like I am being useful to someone despite my work often going unrecognized by the others in the guild. One of these days though. One of these days I will hunt the most elusive prey of all: the Leviathan. The mythical, half-mechanical beast that has command over storms, whose mere existence remains a mystery. One day I will hunt and kill the Leviathan, and then the guild will finally recognize my work. 

For now, though, I have taken an especially difficult lesser mission. A chupacabra has been roaming around Drit lately and it is my task to slay it. Lily and I tracked down its nest, but we discovered that there are many of them. I cannot do this alone, I will need help. Perhaps I can enlist the help of a group of adventurers who seem to have gained a reputation lately. I recognize one of them as Zandire Blackmont, another Hunter in the guild. The others though, I had never heard of. Going by reputation alone, they may be able to help me. From what little I know of Zandire, he seems like the decent sort, but that’s exactly what worries me. 

Worry or not, I have little choice. After the meeting to decide the new head of the guild, I will talk to them. I may not be able to trust them, but if they will help me, then that’s all I need. Maybe if they’re skilled enough they will even help me hunt the Leviathan. 

I think that I will continue to write on this adventure, however long it may last. I want to write about what happens to me and the conversations with the people I meet. I want to remind myself that I am a person, not just a broken wretch who managed to run away. I am Ariel. I am an escaped slave. I am a Hunter.


	2. Ariel's Journal 2

I met him. Lily, oh Lily, of all the people you could have chosen to bother it had to be him. At first, I didn’t recognize him. Just a dark-haired man with five o’ clock shadow, smoking a cigar in the corner of the guildhall. But then my eyes met his, and to my horror I recognized who he was. Pale grey skin, shotgun strapped to his back, eyes consisting of nothing but blackness and glowing red pupils: the Infernal. 

I do not know him personally. Nobody in the guild does. I only know his reputation and the many rumors people tell. Some people say that he sold his soul to a devil in exchange for power. Others say those who speak to him mysteriously disappear. I have even heard stories of him devouring the souls of the living to sustain himself. I don’t know if any of these rumors are true. There is little anyone truly knows about the Infernal, but a few things are for certain. He’s the best demon Hunter in Drit, he works alone, and he escaped from Hell. Yes…the Infernal…the man infamous for dying and walking out of Hell. Never did I think I would exchange a single word with him, and yet there I was, standing before him, trying not to look him in the eyes. 

Of all the people I have met, few times was I that frightened to meet another, though not for my usual reasons. No…the Infernal is different…he wears no friendly mask as others do. But…what if the rumors about him are true? Is he going to kill me in my sleep? Eat my soul when I least expect it? Perhaps by being friendly to him, he will be more understanding of Lily’s appalling behavior and not bring me to harm. 

After apologizing profusely on Lily’s behalf, I tried to speak to him, doing my best not to wretch out of fear. He told me he was hunting a demon called an omox. A beast made entirely of acid that melts all in its path. I wished him luck since I had never faced such a powerful creature. I was met with scorn. He said he would have been surprised if I had faced such a creature, and that ‘my kitten’ and I did not look like we had ever faced mind-melting terror. As Lily bared her teeth, I shriveled inside at his words. I hoped he did not notice me shudder. 

Putting up a brave front, I told him that I would someday hunt such a beast and told him of my plan to hunt the Leviathan. Sadly, he did not seem to take me seriously, saying that it’s nothing but a myth. But I know he’s wrong. The Leviathan must be out there. What kind of cryptid Hunter would I be if I didn’t at least try to find it? When I told him as much he admitted that I have ambition if nothing else. After which he asked me my name, referring to me as ‘kid’. I gave my name, but against all good sense I snapped at him for calling me ‘kid’. I could not help it, I hate being called that at all let alone by someone not much older than me. He laughed and admitted that I have a bit of a spine and asked me what I was hunting currently. I told him about the chupacabras, and then made a very big mistake. 

By the gods, what was I thinking, asking the Infernal to help me? Did I expect an answer other than a very blunt ‘no’? I should be grateful he didn’t bite my head off for merely asking. I’m glad I ran off when I did. He could have done worse. Who knows what a man like that is capable of? He’s unkind, brusque, and unfriendly. Like I said, he wears no mask. How can he secretly be a monster when he wears no mask? Maybe he’s not secretly a monster. Maybe the rumors about him are true and everyone knows he is. He wouldn’t have to keep it a secret then. Either way, I hope we never meet again.


	3. Ariel's Journal 3

After the meeting at the guild I mustered up the courage to approach the one I assumed to be Naj’ko, one of the adventurers travelling with Zandire, and asked her for help. After talking to the others, the group agreed to help me. Lily smelled each one of them individually. I wonder Lily, what did you get from their scents? Are they safe? I didn’t notice you getting terribly upset, so I hope that means they’re okay…for now at least. 

The mission went well. We tracked the chupacabras back to their nest and managed to slay them all without much problem, though one of them bit Naj’ko. She said she was okay though. Well, she was okay enough to joke about it at least.

On the way back to the guildhall, my new companions told me a little bit about themselves. I still don’t trust them though, they seem too…decent. Especially Zandire. He’s a fellow Hunter yes, but I feel like he has some ulterior motive. He is a noble after all. Nobles never do anything that doesn’t benefit them in some way. But as a drow raised by humans, I guess he wasn’t born into nobility. Though who’s to say he didn’t learn to be like other nobles. 

Alastor, an automenta, is a strange one. Entirely mechanical, lacks a face, barely says a word, but friendly. It’s odd. It isn’t the sort of friendly that Perring was. No, something about his friendliness is different. I don’t think I could say how, but somehow in my gut I know that Alastor wouldn’t hurt anyone if he could help it. He is gentle. Docile. But I sense that something deeply troubles him. When Lily smelled him, he was the only one she growled at. But as far as I could tell, it was only because he tried to pet her and not because something smelled wrong. I still can’t trust him though. How could I trust one I just met?

I have mixed feelings about Naj’ko, the half-orc woman with the mechanical arm. True, she agreed to help me and shielded the rest of us from the chupacabras…but she laughed. She laughed when I told her about my plans to hunt the Leviathan. Said something along the lines of ‘why do we always manage to find the nutcases?’ I could deal with the Infernal not taking me seriously, but he didn’t laugh at me or call me crazy. Naj’ko said she wasn’t laughing at me, she was laughing at the situation. I didn’t believe her. What situation was it that would have made her laugh? Was it the mere fact that I am planning to hunt the Leviathan? I doubt I will ever find out. 

Then finally there’s Greem, a goblin. She said very little to me until this evening. Part of me is glad I spoke to her, but part of me wishes I hadn’t. Like I normally do, tonight I climbed up the drainpipe and took my usual seat on the roof of the guildhall to gaze up at the moon and the stars. Foolishly not checking to see if any windows were open, I decided that I wanted to sing.

I sang my favorite…the one about the woman who wished upon the stars and her wish came true. Unfortunately, I discovered that Greem had been listening the entire time. I begged her not to tell anybody about my singing and thankfully, she agreed not to. She then asked me what I would wish for if I knew in my heart that it would come true. I couldn’t really answer. At the time, my wish was that I never see the Infernal again. But I guess that my wish could change tomorrow. 

Remembering that Greem is a fortune teller, I asked her to tell me my fortune. She told me to ask my question and she would read the answer in her tarot cards. I asked what would keep me safe. I don’t know what I expected the answer to be…but gods…I wish I had not asked. The first card represented a turbulent past, though one that made me what I am now. I suppose I expected that part of the answer. The next card showed the advice for the present. It advised me to allow the events of the present to happen and I will grow as a person. The card she drew for the future, she told me to take it more literally. Her reading of the card told me that I must find the one in the guise of a devil but with the heart of a mortal. That person will be the key to my future. 

It reminded Greem of the old tale of the woman who fell in love with a monster, and I couldn’t help but agree. But…to read the card like that, I can’t believe it was hinting at that. Why would anybody ever love the likes of me? Greem is certain that somewhere in Drit is somebody who would. Regardless, if that is what the cards were hinting at…no, it absolutely can’t be. Not in an eternity. I mentally went through all the people I had encountered and tried to think of anyone who might have the face of a devil and came up with only one. I felt my blood run cold as my mind whispered his name: Infernal.


	4. Ariel's Journal 4

I found myself in the back of a nearby tavern having a tankard of strong ale, paying no attention to my surroundings. I don’t know why I do this to myself. After one drink I started to feel dizzy, but something about the flavor comforted me. I wish I knew what that was. As I sat there, I tried my best to think of anything but what Greem had said but couldn’t. 

How could the Infernal possibly be the key to my future? It’s impossible, I refuse to accept it. A man like that would eat me alive…maybe even literally. That’s just a rumor they tell, right? Rumor or not, thinking about it causes me to shudder. I hunt creatures whose existence is merely rumored, and much of the time they turn out to be real. How is this any different? I can only pray that the rumors about him are lies. Even if they are though, what kinds of horrors did he see in Hell? Would he use what he saw upon me? The mere thought chills me to the bone, but I have to be brave. He cannot know how much he frightens me. I can’t let him use that against me. 

In the middle of thinking, I heard the Infernal’s familiar gravelly voice. Praying to the gods that he wasn’t actually there, I looked to my right and saw him. I didn’t notice him come in, but there he was, sitting one table away with a glass of whiskey in his hand. He commented casually that he didn’t expect me to be the heavy-drinking type. Stuttering more than I usually do, I told him that I wasn’t. That I had just received bad news and needed something to calm me down. Not completely a lie, but he took it as one, telling me that I looked like I was afraid of something. He wasn’t surprised though since to him, fear seemed to be my natural state. His words cut me to my very core. He wasn’t wrong. 

Changing the subject, I told him that my mission went fine and that Zandire and his companions agreed to help me. To my utter astonishment he nodded in approval and told me it was good for me. He was glad that I would be travelling with others. Probably against my better judgement, I asked him why it even mattered to him and told him that of any of the Hunters, he is the last person I would ever expect to care about the likes of me. His next words took me by surprise. He told me I was different from the others. That despite my fear I still stuck around to have a conversation with him, which was more than anyone else ever did. He appreciated my ambition and spirit. Here I was, a fledgling Hunter, planning to go after the largest prey of them all. I was not sure what to say in return, so I merely thanked him.

It must have been the ale that made me say what I said next. I can think of nothing else that would have possessed me to be so bold. I told him that Greem had mentioned him in her fortune. He just chucked. My heart racing, I tried to get him to reassure me that it was all just a silly fortune and that Greem had to be a charlatan. 

He asked me what she said that had me so flustered. I was honest. Again, it must have been the ale. I told him about how she said I needed to find the one with the face of a devil and the heart of a mortal. That that person would be the key to my future. I told him how I went through all the Hunters I knew, and the only one who might match the description was him. He thought that might be right and was curious about what was meant by him being the key to my future. Almost unable to get my words out, I tried telling him that it may not even be him. The world is a large place, there had to be others. He said I had a good point and wished me luck finding whoever the fortune was referring to.

Gods, why did I say the thing I said next? Why must ale make me say things I otherwise wouldn’t? I told him I hoped that it wasn’t him the fortune spoke of. Realizing with horror what I had just said, I tried my best to tell him I didn’t mean what it sounded like. I only meant I didn’t want to inconvenience him. I knew he liked being left alone and wouldn’t want to deal with a wretch like me. He was surprisingly understanding. Nobody else wanted to be around him, so why would I? However, he didn’t take kindly to me calling myself a wretch. He said that he would have to start hating me if I kept calling myself that because he hates liars. My panic grew worse. The mere thought of him hating me…of making an enemy of him…no, I don’t want to think about it. 

Not sure what else to say, I apologized for what I called myself and told him I was working on my low self-esteem. I begged him not to hate me. He seemed to accept my apology. The fact I was working on it was what mattered. He then told me that I was worth so much more than the other Hunters because of my motivation to be better. I should’ve been flattered by his words. Instead, I told him that I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel like a wretch sometimes. Thank the gods I did not let my tongue slip and tell him why. What I told him instead was that he had no idea how much I wanted to better myself. Perhaps even I would surpass him. He chuckled at the idea, since he would only keep improving as I did, but told me I should never stop aiming for the top. Once I am there, no one will be able to call me a wretch, not even myself. He had a point. I hope it turns out to be true. 

Feeling strangely encouraged by his words, I gave him a brief smile. I think I saw a smile in return. A rare sight indeed if it was. At that point, I decided I should return to the guildhall before the others started to wonder where I was. I made the mistake of finishing my drink in several quick gulps. When I stood up, the world seemed to spin and I fell to the floor. After helping me stand back up, he offered to walk me back to the guildhall since I was in no condition to go back by myself. It was a trick. I just knew it. A trick to get me alone so he could…gods know what. Kill me? Eat my soul? Or worse, chain me to a table and…no…he’s different right? He wears no mask, he can’t be like Perring. Regardless, I exited the tavern without looking back. 

I walked back to the guildhall as quickly as I could without collapsing again, keeping one hand on Lily’s back for balance and my other hand on my moonstone pendant for luck. My pendant…the coolness of the moonstone’s unpolished surface and its crescent shape comforted me as I made my way through the night. My most precious possession…I found the stone in a stream when I escaped from slavery. I now wear it for luck and protection, though I know it has no magical properties. It’s like a piece of myself now. I will never take it off. Thankfully, I made it safely back to the guildhall, my mind finally clear enough to sleep.


	5. Ariel's Journal 5

Zandire told me about what happened before I joined them. It started with him and the others being called upon by a werewolf named Sir Pendalton to do a job for him. They were to deal with a vampire problem that could help turn the tide in the war between the vampires and the werewolves. 

During their mission, they discovered a portal, and through it they saw someone named Wasan the Lost, a master artificer who vanished long ago. Before they could do anything though, the portal vanished. 

Next, they were sent by Silenus Stormspear, a nobleman, to retrieve a magic sword from bandits. When they got to the ruins where the bandits were hiding, they found all of them dead, and a mechanical being who called itself the Protector. It was wielding a sword possessing magic that had the power to destroy the world. At least, that’s how Alastor described it. Apparently, it was retrieving a gemstone stolen from its master, Wasan the Lost. Zandire had no doubt it would have killed them all had they not answered its questions. 

Later on, they met a god, but didn’t know it till later. They were sent by an old woman to retrieve a ring of hers from bandits, and the ring ended up having a lot of divine magic around it. When they returned it, the woman said there was more to her than meets the eye and vanished, leaving behind divine magic residue. 

Then they met a god again. They recovered a stolen painting that had apparently been painted by the death god, Lord Dusk, himself. He came personally to collect his stolen painting and gave them magic weapons as thanks. He also confirmed that the old woman from before was Morninglow, goddess of life. Even though the two of them have been warring since the beginning of time, they both had taken interest in this group of adventurers and both wanted to help them. 

I guess for every great adventure there’s one not so great. They decided to investigate the wreckage of an old airship and it ended badly. They accidentally reactivated the unstable arcane engine and crashed the ship into the city wall. They all got arrested and tried for property damage and theft. The judge ruled that they hadn’t stolen the airship since no one owned it, but they still destroyed the city wall, so they had to do community service. Well, the kind of service adventurers can give. 

They were sent to some ruins and found proof that the governor of Drit had royal lineage. Because of that, Drit could declare itself a minor kingdom. They were pardoned for the airship crash and called by the governor ‘the Champions of Drit’. 

Not long after, they met me. I knew that they had reputations, but I had no idea that they had done so much. If I am going to be one of them then, I had better make sure to pull my own weight.


	6. Ariel's Journal 6

I thought my mind was clear. I thought everything was clear. But then I had the nightmare again. The one with Perring. Now I’m awake in the middle of the night, tossing and turning, wishing for my thoughts to go away. I can’t stop thinking about the Infernal and everything he’s said to me. I desperately want to believe that he’s not a monster, but what if I’m wrong? 

I know I said earlier how certain I was that he wouldn’t do what Perring did to me. The more I think about it though, the less sure I become. He knows how much I fear. He knows I have low self-esteem. What if he uses those things to control me? Forces me back onto that table in the dark room full of torture tools? Gods…please no. Anything but that. Please…please Infernal; kill me, devour my soul, anything but that table. I am sorry I called myself a wretch. I am sorry I am so so sorry. It’s all my fault I am like this. Please don’t hate me. Please don’t remove the rest of my spikes. I beg of you; have mercy. Of course the rumors are true; how could they not be? How foolish I was for thinking otherwise. Lily, please protect me. 

I never want to see him again. Gods please…never let our paths cross again. But if they do, what am I supposed to do? Run? Hide? Scream? No, he will only hunt me down. Ignore him? No, he will only hate me more. I know I can’t fight him; he is too strong. Talk to him? Maybe…I don’t know what else I can do. Maybe if I speak to him, he will be less inclined to do me harm and will hate me less. I know he said he didn’t hate me. I know he encouraged me to keep aiming to be the best. He couldn’t have meant it, he just couldn’t have. He would never truly mean it. No one would. 

I can’t tell the others about this. They will not believe me. They’ll think I’m mad. I have to keep it a secret that I ever saw the Infernal again. I have to keep it secret from the Infernal how much I truly fear him. He can never know. No one can.


	7. Ariel's Journal 7

We got a letter from the governor today. The airship that crashed into the city wall, a man named Gren managed to make us the legal owners of it. How he did that, I don’t know. Zandire told me that Gren is Sir Pendalton’s assistant and that they’d dealt with him before. I guess that’s good. I do not know. 

The letter also told us that the master artificer, Tarvek Rubyrust, wanted to work on our airship, so we went to the airship docks to meet him. I wasn’t too keen on meeting someone new but admittedly I was curious to see the ship. 

I don’t know much about airships but this one was…odd. As far as I could tell it was an old design, but the strange thing was that it had a tree in the center. I guess when it was still in ruins, a tree grew up through the middle, but when it reactivated, the tree was ripped out of the ground and stayed there. 

Tarvek told us he wanted to install a new engine in it and took us back to his workshop to show us the engine he wanted to install. I got sick on the carriage ride over there though. I hadn’t known self-driving carriages give me motion sickness. Or maybe it was just the bumpiness of the road, I don’t know. 

When we got there, one of Tarvek’s apprentices told us that he had already finished building the new engine. It didn’t make any sense though. He had just received the assignment and it should have taken at least a week. He remembered getting the assignment and remembered taking a full week to build it. 

Alastor, who seems to know almost everything about magic and can sense magic, told us that chronomancy was at work. I had never heard of chronomancy before. Alastor explained that it is time magic. Manipulating time, stopping time…but it could have serious consequences, the worst of which is being erased from existence. The idea that such magic exists made my blood run cold. 

The weird thing is, the apprentice who built the engine hadn’t used chronomancy or come into contact with any chronomancers. Zandire guessed that maybe someone broke in and did it, but why? It doesn’t make much sense to me, but what do I know? In any case, one of Tarvek’s other apprentices duplicated the engine with safe magic, which got rid of any enchantments that might’ve been on the original. 

On the way back to the airship docks I sat up in the front of the carriage so maybe I wouldn’t feel so ill. I had a conversation with Tarvek. I hadn’t intended to speak to him, but of course, Lily had to poke her head in to say hello. He commented on how she’s an interesting leopard, presumably because she tends to behave like a tame housecat most of the time. I agreed and told him she’s my closest companion. 

He told me he did not recognize me. He knew of the governor’s current favorite adventurers, but I did not match the description of any of them. I told him about how they helped me on a mission and how I decided to join them. He thought this odd since usually when someone hires adventurers, they simply pay them and leave. So, I told him that I needed their help in my long-term quest to hunt the Leviathan. He seemed to take me seriously. He didn’t scoff at me or tell me that the beast doesn’t exist like most others do. 

It was around then that he realized who I was and asked me if I was Ariel. I nodded, wary for a moment, but then he told me that Margret, the head of the cryptid division of the Shadow Hunters’ Guild, mentioned me. I relaxed a bit and wondered what she could have possibly said about me. I trust Margret, but why would she talk about me of all people? There are much better Hunters than me. Tarvek said that Margret told him a bit about me. Namely that I’m shy, that she thinks I will make a great Hunter someday, and that I have people problems. I’m flattered that she thinks I will be great. Perhaps someday it will be true. 

He then went on to tell me that he once had trouble talking to people too. It wasn’t until he became a master and gained apprentices that this started to change. He said he loves teaching. I told him I have never taught before. He suggested that perhaps I could try it and teach my companions the ways of hunting cryptids. I know all too well that there is more to a hunt than simply killing the beast. Maybe I will teach them, though I don’t know what they could learn from me about hunting that they couldn’t learn from Zandire. Hunting cryptids and hunting vampires isn’t all that different, is it? I can’t say I’ve given it much thought. 

He then told me that sticking with this group of adventurers will help me with my difficulties with people. Especially since being alone is never a good thing. I reminded him I have Lily, but he said that sometimes I will want someone who can reply to me. Oh Lily, I wish you could speak to me. I know you can understand me, if only you could answer. I know there’s magical means I could use to talk to her but I’m not confident with what little magic I do know. 

Maybe Tarvek is right though. Maybe travelling with companions will help. Is it even possible that I could become friends with them? No…this is just wishful thinking. In any case, he told me that if I just be myself then those who are meant to be with me will find me. I don’t believe him. I try and be myself but no one really likes me. I don’t blame them though. Who would want to be friends with someone as timid as me? He then cautioned me to be careful of those who I clearly should stay away from. Immediately, the image of the Infernal popped into my mind. I shuddered at the thought of him. 

Throughout the conversation I could not help but question why. Why was Tarvek being so kind to me? Why was he offering me advice? He reminded me of a father. Not one like mine, but like ones I hear others talk about. One who cares, gives advice, and wants what is truly best for his daughter. At least that’s what people say they are like. I don’t know if I believe them though. I bet that Tarvek would hand me over to a gang boss just as my father did. I can’t trust that he meant well, but I can’t deny that I should consider his words.

When we got to the airship docks, someone had come to remove the old engine. Or rather…ate it? At least that’s what I was told happened. The person who came to remove it was known for eating magic. I didn’t want to know how. The stench was enough to turn my stomach. It was a very strange smell too, I can only describe it as a mixture of autumn leaves and blood. 

Once the old engine was gone, Tarvek installed the new one. Once it was in place, something strange happened. The tree that had grown through the middle of the airship seemed to magically fuse with it, and now its leaves shimmer with rainbow light. Odd, but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t beautiful. 

We took the airship up for its maiden voyage with me at the helm. Tarvek said that if I was going to hunt the Leviathan I would have to learn how to fly an airship. He wasn’t wrong. I have been on airships before but only as a passenger. For my first time flying an airship, I didn’t do too badly. Well, I got off the ground and didn’t crash at least.

There’s something different between being a passenger and flying the airship myself. A sense of freedom. I felt like I was in control of where I went and nobody else. A feeling that I have not felt since the night I escaped from slavery. For that brief moment, I forgot about my troubles. Forgot about the Infernal. Forgot about my past. There were only the winds and me.


	8. Ariel's Journal 8

I knew it was only a matter of time before my companions found reasons to be upset with me. I went to Naj’ko to thank her for her help with the chupacabras and to make sure Lily didn’t accidentally hurt her when she pounced on the one she was fighting. She seemed more concerned about her glory being stolen by a cat than she was potential injury. What glory? They were only chupacabras. Not questioning her, I apologized for Lily. In battle, she sees only her foe and reacts on instinct. I told her I don’t understand wanting glory. She thought that was funny and told me that by hunting the Leviathan I am chasing after glory. 

I don’t think she understands. There’s a difference between glory and simple recognition for a good job. I don’t want to be a legend. I don’t want to be feared like she suggested. I just want to be taken seriously by the other Hunters. When I told her as much, she said I wasn’t listening. It would only be my enemies who would tremble before me. I don’t want any enemies either, though I suspect I already have one. Have I truly made an enemy of the Infernal? Oh gods...please let it not be so. 

I didn’t want to tell her I had spoken to the Infernal again, so I gave the name of the next closest potential enemy I have: Silenus Stormspear. I’ve never met him in person, but I know he hunts the Leviathan as well. Lily knows this too, I think. She must see him as my rival given how she growled when I mentioned his name. 

Naj’ko seemed impressed that Lily could be so smart. I told her about the magical bond between us, but she sneered at the bond and told me she dislikes magic. I asked her why. If my first big mistake was talking to Naj’ko in the first place, asking her this was definitely the second. She told me that only the lazy use magic and that it’s a crutch for the weak who don’t want to put in the work for real strength. I didn’t understand her reasoning. It takes years to learn magic for those who aren’t born with the ability. I told her about another Hunter I’d come across who tried to learn magic but failed after putting in a lot of effort. 

All she did was shout at me. What was I expecting her to do? Did I really think that she’d react well? All I wanted to do was tell her what I had seen, but she shouted at me all the reasons I was wrong. The second her voice raised, my heart began to race and my breathing grew quick. Tears filling my eyes, I apologized. What do I know anyway? Who am I to say anything? I begged her not to hate me and ran off. I don’t remember much in that moment. I remember panicking and seeing Lily bare her teeth. But…I think I might’ve heard her say she was sorry. No, it can’t have been. It was my fault. I brought it up in the first place. 

Gods she must be mad at me. Is she going to hurt me in anger? Please don’t, I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean any of it. I am no one. My opinion doesn’t matter. Who am I to question her hatred of magic? I’m afraid. Lily…please keep me safe.


	9. Ariel's Journal 9

I dreamed of the Infernal last night. I was running away from Naj’ko down a long hallway and ran through an open door. Within was the Infernal, standing in the middle of an otherwise empty room. I ran straight into his arms. He was not startled in the least. No…instead he wiped away my tears and told me that everything would be okay. He held me until I was calm. 

Once the tears had stopped, he caressed my cheek, carefully running his thumb along each and every one of my spikes. Putting his hands on either side of my face and not being careful of my spikes at all, he drew me into a passionate kiss. Even though I was dreaming, I could almost feel it as our tongues entwined and explored the insides of each other’s mouths. He gently lowered me to the floor and began to undo the fastenings of my vest and removed my cloak. He ran his mouth along the length of my collarbone until his lips pressed against the base of my neck. And then he tore my throat out with his teeth.

Suddenly watching it happen as if I were an onlooker, I watched as he moved back slightly from my bloody corpse. A dagger appeared in his hands. He ran the tip of the blade gingerly down the length of my body, slitting me open, then reached into my chest and pulled out my still-beating heart. He raised it to his mouth and devoured it whole, my blood covering his face and clothing. Next, he reached in and pulled out what looked like a glowing blue flame which I could only assume was my soul. He devoured that as well. 

He saved the worst for last. He brought the dagger up to my face and sliced off one of my spikes. Then another. And another. Until all of the spikes on my face we gone. He did the same to my arms and legs. When he was finished, he stuck his blade into my stomach and stepped away from my corpse. He looked at me and gave me a toothy smile, his teeth glistening with red. All the sudden the Infernal was gone, and in his place was Lord Perring, giving me an evil smile, his white suit now red with my blood. 

I woke as I hit the floor. My head spun and my body was drenched in sweat. It took me a moment to realize where I was and that I was still alive. I sat up, heart pounding and breathing rapidly. The unmistakable form of Lily padded up to me and nuzzled my face with her nose and licked my cheek. I held her for several minutes while I adjusted again to reality and started to calm down. Once my breathing had steadied, I climbed back into bed and stared at the ceiling. It was just a nightmare. Gripping the sheets tightly, I curled up in a ball and cried until dawn.


	10. Ariel's Journal 10

Once the sun rose, I got out of bed and waited for the others in the gathering space of the guildhall. Almost as soon as I sat down, the Infernal walked in and leaned up against a nearby wall. Of course he did. What was I expecting to happen? 

He must have noticed that I had been crying since he asked me if I was okay. He called me by my name and asked if I wanted to talk about it. I decided that I probably should even if I didn’t want to. So, I told him about how in my nightmare he ripped out my throat. He said I probably wasn’t the first person to have a nightmare about him like that, but that he doesn’t actually kill people.

I didn’t believe him. How could I with how defensive his tone was? I then told him how it got worse. He seemed horrified by the idea of eating my heart, though did not deny eating souls. He asked me why he would cut off my spikes. Not wanting to give the truth, I dodged the question and asked him why he was even speaking to me at all if he hated me. He told me he didn’t truly mean what he said about hating liars. He only wanted me to stop being so hard on myself. 

He then told me why he was speaking to me. He said I was the only one who ever responded when he spoke. Not knowing what to say, I merely asked him not to hate me and apologized for my terrible nightmare. He looked away from me and said he wouldn’t dare hate another person. Facing me again, he told me there was nothing to forgive. He never hated me in the first place. He gave me a weak smile. I was surprised to see a smile from him. Every time I’ve seen him, he’s had a scowl on his face. I feel like he sincerely meant he never hated me, but that does not mean I trust him. Perring didn’t hate me either. 

Once again, I apologized for bringing up my nightmare. He was glad I did since that meant I trusted him enough to tell him. I did not have the courage to tell him I didn’t trust him. Instead, gods help me, I told him there was more to my dream. I told him about the passionate kiss we shared at the start. 

He was startled by this but asked me in earnest if I fancied him. Equally startled by his question, I denied it and told him that he tore out my throat with his teeth when I thought he was going to kiss my neck. 

Then, his entire demeanor changed. He seemed…deflated. Defeated. He apologized for causing me such distress and said he would leave me alone. Giving me a goodbye with an air of finality, he wished me luck and left. 

I don’t understand. I should be thrilled about him leaving me alone. This is what I wanted the whole time right? But…what is this I feel? I feel hollow. There was no mistaking the pain in his eyes when I told him how a kiss turned to a murder. He had told me he spoke to me because I was the only one who answered. Was he hoping I would be different than everyone else? Maybe even be a friend? I didn’t even think of how lonely he must be. How terrible it is to be feared by everyone he encounters. 

I didn’t mean to hurt him. Fear or not, the last thing I want is to hurt anyone like that. Infernal, please forgive me. I did not mean to cause you such pain. If you ever speak to me again, I promise I will try and make it right.


	11. Ariel's Journal 11

Gods, what have I gotten myself into? Of all the things that could have happened, why did it have to be something like this? I suppose I should start from the beginning.

After taking a short flight on our airship, we found something awful happening in the skies above the city. Two flying figures were hurling spells at each other and causing explosions in the air. As we watched, one of the figures, an orcish mage, cast a spell down upon us, causing us to be trapped within crystal walls. 

He flew down to us then and landed in front of Naj’ko, saying something like ‘I finally found you. Now you will fulfill your destiny on the other side of the moon.’ Then, in a flash of light, he and Naj’ko vanished. As soon as he was gone, the crystal trapping us disappeared. It took a moment for it to register what had happened. Naj’ko had been kidnapped. 

Soon after the orcish mage disappeared, the other mage landed, seeming relieved to see Alastor. He made a few gestures with his hands, and Alastor gestured back. Sign language, or so I guessed. I had seen Alastor use it before but had never seen another use it in reply. I don’t know what exactly was said between them, but Alastor tried to communicate it to us. 

Since Alastor never says more than two words at a time, it was hard to understand, but what I could gather was that the other mage’s name was Jason of the Open Palm, a member of an order of mute mages. This order was founded by a woman named Mira, who Alastor had protected as a child. They were also from another world, having used magic to cross dimensions. Alastor wanted badly to see Mira, but now was not the time. The orcish mage had the plans and the power to unravel the world. My blood ran cold at the mere idea. Even though I am certain Naj’ko hates me, I couldn’t just abandon her to a horrible fate. 

I thought hard about what the mage said to her, and an idea popped into my head. He’d said something about taking her to the other side of the moon. While I don’t know much about the gods, the one I know most about is the moon god, Wallux. I decided to follow him not long after I escaped slavery. But that wasn’t important. What was important was what I knew about him. 

On the moon, there is a place called the Lunar Sanctum. A temple that can only be reached with the aid of a priest of Wallux. Luckily, I knew of one. A priest named Stephen who I’d seen often around the Shadow Hunters’ Guild. To my understanding, he’s an emissary between the guild and the Churches. I wish I could say it worked, but the Churches don’t trust the Hunters still. 

Anyway, we went to Stephen and asked him about the Lunar Sanctum. He said it was created by Wallux long ago because his priests wanted a sacred place as close to the moon as possible. However, the only way to get there was by completing the Trial of the Blood Moon, a test which decided who were worthy. The test varied from person to person. It could be puzzles or riddles or even a trial of combat. However, it wasn’t called the Trial of the Blood Moon for nothing. People have died trying to compete it. I gulped silently when he told us that, but unfortunately, we didn’t have much of a choice. If that mage really wants to end the world, we had to do something. 

So, we gathered in a circle and prayed. I am not sure how it happened, but we were transported to the Ether, the realm of the gods. When I looked around, we seemed to be in an arena of some sort made out of white marble. A moon appeared in the sky, and a voice called down to us. It was Wallux himself. We told him what had happened, and he said that there was someone in his Lunar Sanctum. Whoever it was, he couldn’t force them out by divine means. So, he was giving us a chance to get rid of the intruder. But first, we had to complete the trial. 

The moon above us turned red, and in the middle of the arena appeared a fire elemental. It hurled balls of fire at random almost, I don’t think it was even trying to hit us. Well, in any case, I unsheathed my knuckle axes and charged at the creature, slicing off one of its arms as I passed. While there was a lot of heat, I wasn’t injured and nor were my companions. 

Once the creature fell, Wallux appeared again and told us he made the trial simple on purpose to ensure we would succeed. He bade ‘us heroes’ farewell…us heroes and Greem. I don’t get it. Is Greem not one of ‘us heroes’ too? I didn’t have much time to contemplate it since we were suddenly transported to the Lunar Sanctum. Once there, it did not take long to find Naj’ko. Gods…it was horrible though.

When we found her, she was dressed in nothing but her undergarments and groaning in pain. Her limbs were bound together, her mechanical arm was gone, and her body was covered in tattoos of runes I was certain were not there before. Where the arm had been was a horrible scar covering the entire space where an arm should have been attached. I shuddered at the sight, thinking of my own scars, but pushed the thought away quickly. 

She grunted out that the mage was gone, so I got to work cutting the ropes holding her. As I did, she told us what happened. She told us that she had been made into a spellcaster. Somehow, magical knowledge was forced into her mind and her knowledge of fighting was forcibly removed. I nearly retched out of horror. 

Zandire then asked what happened to her mechanical arm. She replied that it was probably destroyed. That mage had always hated technology. I was confused for a moment and asked her if she knew him. I wished I hadn’t asked. The mage that kidnapped her and transformed her into the thing she hates is her father. Once again, I nearly retched. 

I wasn’t given much time to process this though since suddenly, a note popped into existence in front of us, telling us of a plot to destroy the world and rewrite it. It was signed, ‘Grunduk the Library’. Not long after, a second note appeared saying that if Naj’ko didn’t use her magic daily, she would become sick with an illness so unpleasant that she had no choice but to do what he said. 

How anyone could do that to another person let alone their own daughter…it made me tremble in either fear or anger, I wasn’t sure which. And rewriting the world? I don’t understand. Sure, there’s a lot of bad in the world but there’s good too, right? Right there, I made a promise to myself. I promised that somehow, we would stop this wicked mage from destroying all that is both good and bad. But I know that as we are, we can’t. We have to become stronger before we can stop him. 

Bringing my attention back to reality, we searched for the war hammer Naj’ko had carried. While searching, we found an altar with a golden bowl sitting on it, filled with a thick, bubbling, black liquid. Almost as soon as Naj’ko approached it, the disgusting liquid leapt out of the bowl and stuck to the shoulder where her mechanical arm had been. Somehow, it started to morph into an exact copy of her missing arm. How that happened, I don’t know. I don’t want to know. But Naj’ko told us that the magic in it felt the same as the magic that was in her war hammer, so she guessed that this new arm had once been her hammer. 

After searching some more and finding nothing else that could help us, we left the Lunar Sanctum and reappeared in the guildhall in the same place we had left. Immediately, I left the gathering space to find an empty room where I could sleep. 

I did not sleep well that night. I just lay there thinking of what had happened. It all made sense now. Naj’ko hates magic because of her father. He must have painted magic in a terrible light. Maybe she doesn’t hate me after all. I don’t know. Trying to focus on that, eventually I fell asleep.


	12. Ariel's Journal 12

Naj’ko came to apologize for shouting at me earlier. She told me I didn’t deserve it. She had a low opinion of magic users because of her magic-using father being evil. I have no doubts that her father is evil or that her father painted magic users in a bad light. What I doubt is her saying I did not deserve to be shouted at. 

Of course I deserved it, I was the one who brought up magic in the first place. She’s still angry I just know it. She has every reason to be angry at the world for being turned into a magic user. If she did not mean her apology though, why did she even bother trying to apologize in the first place? She must have some motive. Maybe she wants me to let down my guard so it will be easier to hurt me. No…I can’t let that happen. I will kill her before I allow it to happen. She’s not stronger than me like the Infernal is. Gods I hope it does not come to that.

Maybe if I never speak to her she will forget her anger. What if she decides to speak to me though? I can’t let her know I am afraid of her, she will only use that against me. I must act as though everything is fine. Zandire asked me if I was okay this morning. I assured everyone that I was. Thankfully they all seemed to believe me. 

I wish I could trust my companions and tell them about my troubles. My fear of Naj’ko, my encounters with the Infernal, all of it. I just can’t bring myself to. If I tell them of my fears, they will think I’m a paranoid madwoman. Maybe someday I will be able to trust them. But for now, I must still be wary.


	13. Ariel's Journal 13

I don’t really get it. Last time I wrote, I was almost certain Naj’ko was so angry that she meant to hurt me. Now though, I can’t help but pity her. On the airship ride to a town infested with undead, she came to me and told me that she doesn’t know who she is anymore. Why she came to me instead of finding a place to be alone, I do not know. 

I asked her how being a caster made her into somebody else. Apparently, she had built her life around physical strength and hatred of magic. Now that she’s forced to use magic, she does not feel like herself anymore. I know little of her past, but it appalled me that she built her life around hatred like that. No wonder I hesitate to trust her. Anyone who builds their life around hatred is not to be trusted. 

I told her that she should not have done that, in a harsher tone than I intended. Realizing I my tone, I apologized. She told me she deserved to be snapped at. I could not help thinking of how the Infernal did not deserve to be hurt by my words either. I let out a sigh but told her I was fine when she asked if I was okay. Thankfully, she believed me. 

I told her then what she needed to do to not be like her father: she needed to not embody hatred. Her father must have hatred in his very core. Why would he want to end the world if he didn’t hate it? Naj’ko told me that she is trying not to hate but is frustrated since everything she has ever known was forcibly taken because it ‘wasn’t good enough’. She’s frustrated that she is merely a pawn in whatever game her father is playing. 

It was here that I started feeling pity for her. I understand having been a pawn. I was Perring’s pawn. A plaything for him to break. So, I told her then to not be a pawn. Refuse to be one. Be a person instead. She told me she does not know how. She feels like she has been replaced by another person. 

I advised her to do something useful with her powers. Without giving any details, I told her that I was a pawn once and became a Hunter instead. Still angry or not, I wouldn’t wish my former state on anyone. 

She told me what she wanted to do with her powers. Namely that she wanted to become good at magic on order to sabotage her father’s plans. While it would be justified, I warned her that vengeance is a slippery slope. She could go in wanting revenge and end up flaying him alive. Perhaps I shouldn’t have said that. She seemed unnerved that I used that example. I forget sometimes that most people haven’t been tortured. In any case she should not let revenge go to her head. 

She told me that she feared her father wanted her to become good at magic and that he needed this for his plan to succeed. I couldn’t tell her not to become better at magic. We all need to hone our skills if we are to defeat her insane father. 

Naj’ko said she wants to get better on her own terms instead of on her father’s. Learn magic her father wouldn’t want her to learn. At first, I suspected that meant evil magic, but was told that no, that was the kind of magic he probably wanted her to learn, so she wasn’t going to. Instead, she wanted to use her powers to craft potions, and use them for good.

Admittedly, I would have thought that evil magic was the first kind she would want to learn given she wants revenge, but I did not say as much. 

Not many more words were spoken. Instead we just stood there in awkward silence until we reached the town. Naj’ko thanked me for being able to trust me with all of this. I merely nodded in reply. 

I don’t get it. Why would she trust me? We don’t know each other hardly. Now is not the time to think about it though. Now, there are undead to kill.


	14. Ariel's Journal 14

Unsurprisingly, the town we went to was empty. Well, empty of people at least. We found a lot of zombies but no one living. Something was odd about them though. All the zombies had mechanical augments on their bodies. Why a necromancer would make augmented undead is anyone’s guess.

We investigated the buildings, killing any undead we found along the way. We found little of note, save for a portal in the town hall. Alastor tried to get rid of the portal by erasing the runes surrounding it, but they kept redrawing themselves somehow. I can’t say I understood, I know precious little about how magic works. We argued a bit about the best course of action and eventually settled on trying to go through the portal, much to my dismay. 

So, we went through and came out on the other side in a strange place. A stone island of sorts floating in a void. Suddenly a voice spoke to us, asking us who dared enter this place. Instead of giving an answer, Zandire asked who was speaking. The voice introduced itself as ‘the Mechromancer’. Given the name, it was safe to assume he was behind all the mechanical zombies. 

He didn’t say much about what was going on, other than that overrunning the town with undead was ‘practice’. Practice for what, he did not say, but it made me nervous thinking about it. He then told us that if we destroyed a crystal floating in the corner of the island, he would let us leave. It wasn’t that easy though since he had undead minions guarding it. 

We hacked our way through these minions till Zandire could get a clear shot with his pistol, and then he shattered it with one bullet. Thank the gods that the Mechromancer upheld his end of the deal or we would have been stuck there forever. 

Now back in town and the portal gone, we talked some about what to do next and decided it would be best to warn the Shadow Hunters’ Guild about this. If this necromancer was a true threat, then the more people who knew about him the better. 

When we returned to Drit, we received rewards for our success. Namely, we could each choose a magic item from the Seekers’ Guild vaults to keep. I chose a magic cloak that detects lies. I really hope it will work as I think it will. Who knows? Maybe it will help me be able to trust again.


	15. Ariel's Journal 15

When I woke up this morning, unsurprisingly, Alastor was already up. He silently greeted me with a nod. Like she tends to do, Lily wandered up to him to sniff him. He didn’t try and pet her this time, but she did, however, rub her face against his leg affectionately. If Lily likes him then he can’t be bad, can he? Not to mention, he told me at some point that he took care of a small child for many years. I feel like I can trust him. Somehow, I just know he means no harm. 

Before he spoke to me, he said whatever it was he wanted to say in sign language. I’ve noticed he tends to do that before he speaks. Perhaps it’s to gather his thoughts, I don’t know. Whatever it is, I don’t understand sign language, so I must make do with interpreting his two-word sentences. 

He asked me how I was doing, and I told him I was fine. He merely tilted his head, presumably not believing me. I told him that it unnerved me that we had made two seemingly powerful enemies in such short a time. Not a lie, but not entirely the truth. Even though I trust he won’t do me harm, I don’t want to tell him about the Infernal. Not yet. He may still think I’m crazy for the amount of fear that I have. I don’t know if he believed me or not. He didn’t answer. Instead, he patted me on the head. Maybe he was trying to tell me that everything would be okay, no matter what it was that was bothering me. 

His hands glowed, shimmering different colors as he made a few hand motions. A rainbow orb of light raised from his hand. It floated above us slightly and burst with a popping sound and a shower of colorful sparkles. It made me smile. I laughed as I watched Lily try and catch some of the magic sparks under her paws as they fell to the ground, but they eluded her. I can’t remember the last time I laughed like that. I think I understand why Alastor did this. I don’t think it really mattered to him what exactly was bothering me. All he wanted to do was cheer me up. Well, it worked.


	16. Ariel's Journal 16

Gren came to us with another job today. There’d been numerous reports of vampire attacks in the bad part of town. Weird thing was, all the victims were apparently burned alive. I suggested it might be some kind of vampiric fire elemental but none of the others thought so. If it’d been a fire elemental, it would’ve probably burned everything around it and not just its victims. Made enough sense.

From the guildhall, we made our way to the Rats’ Nest, the poorest and most dangerous part of Drit. I’m not surprised we were looked at with distrust. I mean, we clearly weren’t from that neighborhood. I just looked forward while Lily growled at anyone who dared glance at me. 

We spent hours asking around for information about the vampire attacks. Pretty much everyone’s story was different but from what we could gather, the vampire had dark grey skin, white hair, and horns. Apparently, he would offer wealth to his victims before setting them on fire and draining them of blood. 

Since the vampire seemed to lure his victims to him, we decided that the best course of action would be to set a trap. One of us would wander alone while the rest of us were hidden nearby. With Naj’ko as the bait, we set our trap close to midnight when we knew the vampire would be out. 

It didn’t take long for him to appear. He called after Naj’ko to get her attention and said something to her about an offer she couldn’t refuse…and as she got closer, flames burst from his hands. From somewhere in another alley came a burst of rainbow-colored magic light that struck the vampire in the chest. From there, we all came out of hiding and attacked. The vampire didn’t have time to react before he took a bullet to the heart and fell. 

Suddenly, fire engulfed the vampire and he screamed the words ‘this wasn’t what I was promised’. Then, he looked at Zandire with venom in his eyes and said something like ‘he will kill you, he hasn’t forgotten’. Before he could say anything more, he burned up into ash and blew away in the wind. 

Lying there where the vampire had been was a small metal amulet depicting what looked like a corrupted holy symbol. Greem examined it for a second and told us it was the symbol of a demon but did not know which. None of us did.

So, we returned to the guildhall to speak with the head of the demon hunters. I looked around for a moment for the Infernal but saw no trace of him. I wondered if he was still upset but decided now was not the time to think about it. 

We showed the amulet to the head of the demon hunters, who told us that the symbol was demonic in nature. It was the symbol of Bruban, Baron of War. I know little of him other than that he is a very powerful entity, practically having the power of a god. It sounded to the head of the demon hunters like this vampire was a demon cultist who didn’t know what he was getting himself into. If vampires are making pacts with demons though…gods, that’s bad in every way, but we can’t do much about it. It may take the full force of the Hunters to deal with this. 

Before we left, I asked the head of the demon hunters if she knew where the Infernal was. My companions seemed surprised by my question, but I told them nothing. He had gone on another hunt, she told me. He goes on hunt after hunt and never takes a break. I wondered what that was about but did not question her further. 

I didn’t sleep well that night. I spent most of it thinking about what had happened. Vampires making pacts with demons…what could it mean? I spent hours contemplating this but couldn’t come up with an answer. As long as the Hunters know about this though, we can all deal with it, right? There’s no use worrying about it now. Right now, I must rest.


	17. Ariel's Journal 17

Alastor must see me as a friend now since he confided in me about something he was hesitant to tell the others. Instead of actually saying anything though, he wrote down what he wanted to tell me. I’m guessing it was so he could communicate more effectively, given how he struggles with that verbally. 

He told me that the magic orb he carries is a sentient artifact which telepathically speaks into his mind. I believed him. It wasn’t the strangest thing I’d ever heard that turned out to be true. The Orb grants him its power, but it limits how much power it gives. Apparently, the Orb does not trust him yet and refused to give a name other than ‘Orb of the Sage’ or tell him what it truly was. 

It advised Alastor not to tell anyone about it speaking to him but said it was for his sake more than anything. It was apparently worried that others would think he’s gone insane, hearing voices that aren’t there. Alastor suspects it has ulterior motives, and I can’t help but agree. 

He told me that the powerful spell he cast on the demonic vampire was mostly the Orb’s doing, not his own. The Orb seemed to be worried about the demonic magic that the vampire had. Afterwards he asked the Orb what it knew about demonic magic, but it claimed to know little other than that it knew demon magic when it saw it, and that the less demons in the world, the better. I have a feeling that the Orb knows more of demons than it’s letting on. 

Alastor was concerned that the Orb did not tell him it was demon magic despite the fact it knew. The Orb said it did tell him in its own way by amplifying his magic. It said that the best way to determine what demon the vampire served was to kill the vampire and check the remains for an unholy symbol. Alastor accepted this explanation but still doesn’t trust it. The Orb did not expect him to and told him that it doesn’t trust him yet either. I wonder if the Orb acts so shifty because it doesn’t trust Alastor yet. If that’s the case, I can understand. It would not be much different than me keeping my secrets. 

The Orb had a strange request. It wants Alastor to take it with him whenever he can reunite with Mira, the girl he was guardian of for years. It promised to be on its best behavior, it just wants to be there when he sees her. When Alastor asked it why, it refused to give a real answer. It merely said it was for personal reasons but explained nothing more and asked Alastor to just trust it on this. Alastor was hesitant, but after some thought, agreed, feeling he did not have much of a choice. 

Alastor promised the Orb he was going to tell someone about the conversation. The Orb advised him not to, saying that whoever he told would think him crazy, think the Orb dangerous, or think he’s making it all up. It would not stop him from telling anyone though and said that its place was to ensure Alastor lives to meet the fate ahead of him. 

Of course, it did not give a direct answer, saying that it knew the fate of all who wielded it before him. It did not say what that meant but told him that speaking up about it had undesirable outcomes. He told the Orb he would tell me and that I would believe him and keep this a secret. Rightfully so. I won’t tell anyone of this, nor do I think Alastor is making it up. 

The Orb apparently suspected something about me. Namely that I have secrets I am withholding that are better off withheld. If this Orb could tell I’ve been keeping secrets, do the others suspect as well? Do they not trust me? Do they think that I have a malevolent secret of some kind? I hope not. Though I can’t trust them and don’t expect them to trust me completely, I hope they don’t believe I’ll betray them. I mean them no harm. The Orb apparently doesn’t actually know my secrets, nor does it want to know. 

Not many more words were spoken. It hadn’t been poking around in Alastor’s mind, much to his relief. With that, the Orb cut off communication with him. 

I read Alastor’s words, taking in every sentence. I don’t know what to think about this, truth be told. I believe without a doubt he’s telling the truth. Nor do I think he is hearing voices that aren’t there. At all other times he seems perfectly lucid. Never has he struck me as crazy. One thing is certain though: I don’t trust this Orb. It has an ulterior motive; I just know it. I don’t know what that motive could be though and can’t tell if it’s dangerous or not. 

It certainly isn’t benign, that much I’m almost sure of. A sentient artifact…it’s like a person, right? I don’t trust people, why would I trust this Orb? That said though, it’s an artifact, it can’t act on its own. It’s better it’s in the hands of Alastor than in the hands of someone who would definitely use it for evil purposes. I told Alastor as much and he agreed. 

For now, we decided to keep this a secret between us and when we get the chance, try and find out what this Orb actually is. Who knows when we will be able to though with everything that’s happened.


End file.
